


Rainy Days in The Sun

by sweariwouldnt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Bottom Harry, Domestic, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Panic Attack, Sex Mentions, Swearing, no actual smut, non-au, sporadic hopping between scenes, vague reference to anal sex, vague reference to stunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 06:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10457190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweariwouldnt/pseuds/sweariwouldnt
Summary: It's not always perfect, but it's them.A collection of scenes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a pretty awful weekend. I needed to get some angst off my chest. This is rather different from my prior stories. 
> 
> Please note that this fic does acknowledge Jay's passing away, but the mentions are vague. Happy to tell more if you are concerned. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

There’s something very pure about how slept-in beds of couples look like in the mornings. An unorganised pile of crumbled duvets and dipped pillows, maybe two pillows on top of each other, pulled together so the sleepers’ faces can be very close to each other. Harry has a bit of a fix on looking at these sorts of beds; it makes him feel warm and calm. His favourites are all the beds he and Louis sleep in, and he has a habit of taking a picture of the bed in those mornings when Louis has to leave. Maybe it’s wistful, in a way – to give him something solid to hold on to, when the sadness and missing gets too much. It always takes him days to make the bed, after Louis has left; in some way, seeing the remains of what Louis slept in, makes it almost feel like he’s there. Maybe just taking a shower, having just gotten up. Harry inhales his scent from his pillow and runs his hand softly down the bedsheet. It’s not warm anymore, no one’s slept in it for days now.

\---

The dial tone seems to go on forever until the call is finally picked up. 

“Hello lover,” Louis sounds cheerful, and a little louder than normal. “What’s up?” 

Harry can hear loud voices and glasses clinking on the background, mixed with vague hints of a booming bass. “Nothing, just wanted to…,” he clears his throat. “What are you up to?” 

“Enjoying Friday, you know,” Louis chuckles, “having the lads over and we’ll probably head out in a bit. Calum’s being a tit so trying to come up with a good prank to do.” 

Harry’s looking around their closet in the LA house, sitting on the floor in the middle of piles of clothes he just doesn’t seem to be able to sort for washing. “Maybe hijack his Facebook? His password is probably manmeat69 or something.” 

Louis lets out a bright laugh. “Excellent suggestion.”

Harry smiles a little, picking at the strings of his hoodie. “Glad you’re having a good time, Lou.”

“Would be better if you were here. Think you owe me an explicit run-through of what you’re wearing right now. Haz, what are you wearing?” The smirk in Louis’ voice is audible. 

Harry chuckles. “The donut hoodie.” 

“Sexy,” Louis mocks. “Isn’t it too warm for the weather, I checked that LA’s hot right now?” 

“No, it’s… I’m just sitting on the closet floor and I found this and it smelled like you, so I thought I’d just wear it for a bit.”

“Eugh,” Louis sounds grossed, “I wore it like ages ago. It’s probably proper stinky, you should just wash it.” 

Harry feels a bit like a creepy creeper. “I, I don’t want to wash you off though.” 

The background noise quiets down on the other end of the line, and Harry can hear the sound their back door makes. “Babe, are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, “just, I don’t know. Feeling a bit blue.” 

Louis hums comfortingly. “Are you doing anything fun today?” 

“Probably just trying to get some writing done, don’t really want to leave the house.” 

“Love, do you want me to come over?”

“You can’t really just up and fly across the pond, Lou,” Harry laughs. 

“You know I would if I could. I’m sure I can take up flying and ace it in like, max twenty minutes.”

“I’m sure you could,” Harry smiles. He doesn’t think there’s anything Louis couldn’t do. 

They stay silent for a while, listening to each other breathing. It makes Harry feel better, Louis knows. Harry guesses it’s the same for Louis, too. 

“Ok,” Harry says after a while. “Got my fix. Feeling better. Go and have fun.” 

“And what are you going to do?” Louis voice is very soft. 

“Think I have an idea for a song.”

“Glad to be of service.” 

“You always are. Now go, I’ll see you next week.” 

“Love you, Dimples.”

“Love you, Lou.”

\---

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like for other people?” Louis muses as he’s flicking through the channels, sitting on the floor between Harry’s legs. 

“Wonder what what’s like?” Harry continues to rub Louis’ neck. 

“Like, relationships. Being normal.” 

Harry moves his hand down a bit, starting to work on the knots on Louis’ shoulder. “No, I don’t think. Not really, like, I don’t know anything else than this. Why, do you?” 

Louis considers for a moment. “I guess. Just like, little things. Like holding hands and everyone knowing you’re with each other, or like being able to talk about each other with names and not just vaguely, you know. That sort of stuff.”

“Hmm,” Harry adds a bit more pressure and works his knuckles in on the back muscles. “I think we’re pretty normal, with like people close to us. I don’t really know about anything else than this.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit sad?” 

“What, that I don’t have extensive knowledge on relationships other than with you?”

“No,” Louis leans his head back and rolls his eyes at Harry. “That this is normal for us.”

“I like the way we are,” Harry smiles. “I think we’re good. And the stuff outside of us is just, I think as a couple we’re pretty normal, probably like better than most, just our situation is a bit…” he can’t figure out a good word. 

“Abnormal,” Louis nods. “Yeh, you’re right. Just would be nice sometimes to not be quite so, constricted I guess.”

“Ooh,” Harry coos, “you want to hold my hand!” 

“Shut up,” Louis laughs and swats Harry’s leg. “You want to hold my hand more.”

“You want to grope me in public!”

Louis turns around so he’s facing Harry, and pulls him closer by his hips. “I do.” 

Harry fake-pouts. “What sort of PDA disgustingness is this now? You’ve hidden it well.” 

“I sort of have to, don’t I?” Louis pulls Harry down from the sofa and the fall on the floor, a messy pile on top of each other. “I would want to though, sometimes. Like when you look extra lush and your little tush is right there and yeah, I could cop a feel.” 

Harry beams. “You want to show me off,” he pokes Louis’ belly, “You think I’m your trophy wife.” 

“Hardly, “ Louis says, “though you do brush up well when you’re not embarrassing.”

Harry’s wide grin turns into a frown impressively quickly. “You think I’m embarrassing?” 

“What do you mean love, of course you are.” 

“No, seriously Lou. Do I embarrass you?” 

“No, Haz,” Louis leans in to peck Harry between his eyes to brush off the frowny crinkle, “I’m incredibly proud of you always. Even when you’re falling all over the place, no one does it quite as impressively as you do.”

“Ridiculous explanation accepted,” Harry smiles. “I’d also kinda want to grope you,” he confesses and proceeds to do just that.

\---

“Haz, why have you been searching for ‘when your partner moans’? “ Louis asks, amused, walking into the conservatory and handing Harry his cup of tea. 

Harry lifts his head up from the polaroids he’s organising into photo albums. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. “What?” 

“You’ve left a tab open, and honestly, I’m a bit shocked. Like, it hasn’t seemed that you’re that clueless with moaning partners, considering I’d probably had noticed, what with you making me moan and all,” Louis winks. 

Harry blanks out for a moment. “It’s. Ahm.” He sighs and decides to own up to his actions. “It’s a typo.” 

“What sort of a typo? Like did you mean to type ‘what’ instead of ‘when’? I doubt Google knows the meaning behind my moans, babe,” Louis grins and ruffles Harry’s hair.

“No, it was… It was supposed to be about mourning. Not moaning,” Harry briefly looks at Louis. 

“Ah. Oh.” 

Louis sits down slowly, like his body had suddenly gone on slow motion, and starts to go through the polaroids as well. One catches his attention and he shows it to Harry. “This could be nice as bigger wall art.” 

It’s a picture of them two, from last Spring, when they’d been up North, on a hot day and so much pollen in the air, Harry’s eyes had been streaming non-stop. They’re pictured from the side, faces turned to each other, Harry half-bend from laughing – his dimple is visible – at something Louis is saying, standing next to him, and they look happy and carefree. 

Harry agrees. A week later they put the wall art on the bedroom wall, opposite their bed. 

\---

“Can you put your phone away, please?” Louis sounds irritated when he comes to bed. “The light keeps me awake.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything, but turns his phone off and puts it on the nightstand. 

“You know I don’t like having phones in bed,” Louis sighs, trying to find a relaxing position.

“I know, sorry.” Harry is sincerely sorry. This isn’t the first time his inability to put his phone down is causing words. 

“What were you even doing?” 

“Just, looking at things,” Harry turns to his side, his back to Louis. 

“What things?” Louis asks after a while. 

“Just things. It doesn’t matter.” 

Harry then feels a soft finger caress his lower back. “Hey.” 

Harry turns to look over his shoulder, and even in the dark of their bedroom, he can make out kind eyes looking at him. “Hey,” he whispers back and turns around to face Louis. 

“Don’t look at that stuff, love. You know people are idiots. They don’t know shit.”

“I guess…,”Harry mumbles. 

“No, Haz, you know it’s true. People say awful things and it says more about them than it does about you, or me, or us.” 

“I just,” Harry sighs and worries his lip. “It’s like everyone is just expecting me to fail. Like they can’t wait for me to fuck up, so they can laugh at me. Like I’m a joke.” 

“Babe,” Louis pulls Harry closer, “they’re idiots. And you’re not a joke. And you won’t fail. You’re brilliant.”

“But what if I’m not,” Harry lets out a sob. 

“I’ve seen you. I know you. You’re brilliant. You worked fucking hard for the things you’ve done and you wouldn’t have done the things you have if like, Nolan thought you were shit. Which you absolutely are not.” 

“I’m so nervous, Lou.” 

“I know babe. You’ll be amazing. I have all the faith in the world for you.” 

Harry smiles and he reaches out to brush some longer strands behind Louis’ ear. “I have all the faith in you, too.” He snuggles in closer until he’s on Louis’ skin, placing a small kiss on his collar bone. “I love how your skin is always warm.” 

And Harry knows Louis hears what Harry really wants to say, thanking him for being his best support system even when things are rocky and he doesn’t feel like he deserves Louis.

\---

The party had been fun. Drinks had been a plenty, it was a good crowd, and they’d both mingled, engaged in funny, light-hearted conversations with people they knew from before and decent new people they were introduced to. They were too busy working the crowd themselves to pay much attention to each other across the room. 

“Could I get a kiss, please?” Louis asks Harry on the back seat of their drive back home. 

“You don’t ever need to ask for one,” Harry smiles and kisses Louis discreetly. “My kisses are yours to have and yours to take.” 

There’s a brief shadow in Louis’ eyes. “Doesn’t always feel that way.” 

“It should. I’ll try to make sure you won’t have to ask,” Harry kisses him again. “Can we have sex tonight?” 

“Ok.” 

But it turns out to be awful. 

Harry’s lying on his stomach, with a pillow propped under his pelvis, and Louis working his hips in a pace that’s not really fast, not really slow. Harry’s favourite thing about having sex with Louis is that no matter how dirty and naughty it gets, he always feels it – feels the connection, feels them become one being, one unit, both of them prioritising each other’s pleasure. Now, as he lays there, short of even having eye contact, it feels… It feels like a chore. A thing that you _should_ do with your partner. On Saturday evenings, with kids in beds, just to be able to say that yeah, we still have sex once a week. Louis’ skin feels different, somehow, and he can feel it everywhere around his body and it feels a little bit like an invasion. They haven’t even kissed, Louis mouth is pressed to his neck but his stubble tickles, feels like it might give him a rash, and he must contain himself from scratching it.

They both come, but it’s not satisfying. Harry’s taking a shower and he’s never felt further away from Louis, waiting in bed. Harry scrubs his skin, still prickling uncomfortably from this unfamiliar Louis skin. He wraps himself in his bathrobe before going to the bedroom, he doesn’t want to be naked in front of Louis right now. 

\---

“I feel like you’re erasing me from your life.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I just feel like, I’m not a part of your plans anymore.”

“When have I ever not included you in my plans? When have I ever done anything without checking with you first?” 

“But, you keep…”

“No. I’m not pushing you away, it’s you who keeps falling away from me.”

“Doesn’t feel like I have any space by your side anymore.” 

“And at this point, it’s like you don’t even want me to _try_ to reach out, you’ve decided that I’m erasing you from my life and that’s it, done and dusted, fucking sorted.”

“It’s not _fucking sorted_ , stop putting words in my mouth.”

“Stop blaming me for things I’m not doing!”

A door bangs shut. 

\---

Harry’s staring at the name on his contact list and realizes he’s actually feeling nervous. He hasn’t felt nervous about calling Louis since probably the very first call he ever made. 

“It’s your Louis,” he mutters to himself and presses the green phone. 

“Hiya,” Louis picks up, sounding croaky.

“Hi,” Harry’s happy to feel the nervousness leave his mind at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing?”

“Still in bed,” Louis yawns.

Harry frowns and looks at the clock, making quick calculations. “Lou, it’s almost six in the evening.”

“That’s a bit late,” Louis says and sounds uncaring. “Oh well.” 

Harry feels the nervousness starting to creep back. “You must be hungry.”

“Not really.”

“When was the last time you ate? How long have you been sleeping?” 

Louis considers. “I had something yesterday. I think I had like late tea.” 

“Like proper dinner?” 

“Jesus, Haz, what is this? You’re not a fucking nurse doing a check-up!” 

Harry doesn’t even bother to get offended. “I just want to make sure you’ve slept and eaten.” 

“I have eaten, and I have slept, like, for almost 20 hours, thanks mum,” Louis’ voice is still snappy. “Was there anything else? Does your form have any more questions that needs answers?” 

“Have you spoken to anyone without being snappy lately?” 

“Fuck you,” Louis says but sounds a bit calmer. “Honestly I don’t think this call is…”

“Lou.” Harry’s voice is quiet, soft, a gentle hug as a sound. 

Louis sniffs and coughs. “Fine. Sure. You want to know how I’m doing?”

“Please.” 

“I’m not hungry at all, haven’t been for days, but I try to chew something down so you’d stop being such a pester, I can’t fall asleep and when I do, I sleep for hours, and when I wake up, it feels fucking pointless like literally, Harry, I cannot find one good reason to get out of bed right now.” 

Harry’s lost for words. 

“That’s what I’m really feeling, so there. And yeah, it’d be a lot more fucking motivating to wake up to your actual face and not these annoying check-up calls, but there’s not a thing you can do about it, so whatever.”

Harry books a ridiculously overpriced seat for the next flight from LA to London.

\---

They still have fun, on some days, of course they do. On days where it’s just them, with nothing to do but spend time together, being young silly boys, on days when, over a lazy breakfast, Louis asks Harry if he wants to go for an adventure. And they go, drive around aimlessly to a direction based on clock times, Harry usually wants to drive towards five o’clock, because the countryside is lovely. They find a hidden little pond in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by thick trees and they go skinny dipping, and then find a dodgy looking café and have a dissatisfying take away lunch. 

“We should go on a holiday,” Harry suggests, sitting on the bonnet of the car, blowing to his too-hot soup. 

Louis looks at him, in a way Harry can’t quite figure out. “Holiday?” 

“Yeah,” Harry finishes his soup and wipes his lips to the back of his hand, “like today. Just leave everything for a while.” 

“Harry,” Louis starts slowly and looks down, “there’s no point.” 

“What?” 

Louis eyes meet Harry’s. “Like, going away doesn’t solve anything.” 

Harry’s mouth flinches. “Did you not have fun today?” 

“I did, of course I did,” Louis weighs his words. “I just don’t think it’d be a good idea. To like, go away and then come back while everything here, in real life, remains the same. I don’t think we should go before it ends.”

“Before what ends?” Harry’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. 

“This… thing, between us. It’s obvious we have issues.”

Harry nods, biting his lip. “But, like, we’ll fix it, won’t we? We’ll fix us.” 

Louis nudges Harry’s shoulder with his. “We will. We’ll fix us so well and then, as a reward, we’ll go for the best holiday ever.” He squeezes Harry’s hand, still unusually warm from holding the hot soup container. 

Harry squeezes back. “I can work with that.” 

“And, like, we have been working so hard on us, like we’re still honestly just kids, we’ve dealt with so much shit together and we’re trying so hard. And, like, we’re doing so well. Usually.” 

“Just a bit of a rut,” Harry agrees. “We’ll figure this out, I know we will, we always do.”

The drive back home is quiet, both deep in their thoughts, but this time, the silence doesn’t feel so loud. 

\---

Louis fingers are digging into his thighs, his thumbs rubbing the skin inside of his thighs up and down, like he’s kneading dough, and Harry leans further back, feels like his spine might crack at any time. His skin feels prickly, and he tries to feel Louis even deeper. The fingers on his thighs press down even more, and it hurts. 

Harry feels so grounded, so very _here_ , instead of the empty floating feeling of just existing in a space of no time, no sense of realness, only drifting from one day to another. 

Louis is being so rough with him, making him feel _owned_ like he had begged to be made to feel tonight. 

Harry feels the pressure on his right thigh lift off, there’s a hand on his neck and he’s being pulled to a dirty, gritty kiss with so much tongue. He feels Louis’ beard scratch his jaw. 

And it’s ok, it’s fine. 

It’s good. 

\---

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry hugs Louis from behind and whispers to him. “You’re magical. So brave and full of magic. And sparkle.” 

Louis squeezes Harry’s arm wrapped around him and kisses inside of his wrist. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

“Come have dinner with me,“ Harry says softly and wraps a thin scarf over Louis’ eyes, blindfolding him. 

“Kinky,” Louis chuckles.

“Just a surprise for you.” 

“What did you make?” Louis asks as Harry leads him to the kitchen, seats him down and puts a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

Harry feels a little nervous. “Uhm, maybe just taste it?”

Louis inhales the divine smell of something hearty and rustic, reminding him of something he can’t quite pinpoint. 

Harry digs a fork into the food, blows on it a bit to make sure it won’t burn, and feeds it to Louis. He’s watching nervously, expectantly, and Louis unwraps the blindfold off himself.

“This is my mum’s recipe,” he says quietly. 

“I know.” 

“She didn’t… She said it was a secret and no one else had it.”

“I know, honey.” 

Their eyes meet and Louis understands, letting out a wet chuckle. “You did well. You’re doing so well.” 

\---

“Hello.” 

“Hi.” 

“I think… I think we should really talk now.” 

“Look, I’m so sorry about the stuff I said, it was so uncalled for, I was being a proper dick.”

Louis shakes his head. “No, me too, I think we both were being… not good.” 

“Apologised and forgiven?” 

“Apologised and forgiven,” Louis nods. “Come sit down with me.”

They sit down on the sofa, leaving some space between them but not as much as they could’ve. 

“How are you? Really.” Louis turns to Harry, who looks down. 

“A little scared.” 

“Why?” 

“I, I,” it’s all a stutter, “if you’re going to break up with me,” Harry’s eyes spill over and he buries his head into his hands. 

Louis starts rubbing his back, slow circular movements. “Don’t be scared.” 

“But I am,” Harry’s hands have started to shake and he can feel his heart beat faster, it feels like there’s a weight pressing down on his chest and he can’t get air. 

“No, Harry. We’re not breaking up. Ever. But we need to talk about this.”

Harry’s pressing his hand down on his chest, trying to will his heart to calm down. He feels like he’s gulping for air. “Okay.” 

Louis looks at him for a few seconds, concerned. “Do you need a glass of water?”

Harry nods fervently. “Please.” 

Louis stands up, taking a few steps towards the door when Harry bounces up and yelps. “Don’t leave me alone.” 

In the kitchen, Louis watched Harry down two glasses of water and press his wet hand to his cheeks. “I’m ok,” he finally says and forces out a laughter. “Sorry you’re stuck with this mess.” 

“My favourite mess,” Louis offers. “You sure you’re ok? I don’t… I don’t want to make you feel like this.”

Harry nods again. “We’re fixing us. I can do this. I want to do this.” 

“Good boy,” Louis smiles. “The best.” 

They go back to the sofa. “Firstly, just so you know, we’re never going to break up.” 

“Okay,” Harry laughs a little, feeling so incredibly embarrassed of himself.

“But I think, it’s not very good if you always react like that, like get an… anxiety attack if I even mention the words.”

“I get that.” 

“I think, for both of us, it might be really good if we… Had other people to talk about our things. Like, professionals.”

“Probably.” 

“Like, I know you’re my best supporter and I’ve always got your back, and I don’t ever want to feel like we’re not talking about absolutely everything, just that…” 

“Some things are a bit beyond of what we can do for each other,” Harry finishes Louis’ thought process. “I agree.” 

“It’s still us against the world, just maybe… Have some advisors in our team?”

“No, yeah, I get that and I absolutely agree.”

“Cool,” Louis lets out a relieved sigh. “Like, we’re together. And we’re not going to ever not be together. But I think, it’d just be healthy, to be able to acknowledge that sometimes things happen and it’s not the end of the world.”

“I think… I don’t know why I’m like that, still, we’ve talked about it and I know we’re on each other’s teams, or like our team, or duo, whatever, like I know and trust all that. I do.”

“And you should,” Louis takes Harry’s hand. “We’re so tight, you have no idea. Like this is us and we are fucking amazing.” 

“We are,” Harry nods. “I think… Remember when I said it feels like we’re just falling away from each other?”

“Yeah.” 

“Sometimes… I feel like your fake life is taking more time and energy than it should. And it’s time and energy away from me.”

Louis looks surprised. “Seriously? Really, Harry?”

Harry shrugs. “It’s… Like it’s just a lot.” 

“I know it’s a lot, I’m living it!” 

“But I’m living it too, that’s just it.” 

“You said you were fine with everything, don’t try to claim I didn’t check everything with you. You were totally on board when it all started.” 

“I’m allowed to change my mind. I changed my mind. It’s fucking awful and I hate everything.” 

“How do you want me to fix it then?” 

Harry says nothing. 

“You know this isn’t something I can fix. I can’t just stop them from happening how they were planned! It’s not a fucking walk in the park  
for me, either.” 

“I know.” 

“Like, the damage is done. You changed your mind but it doesn’t have an effect, like sorry you feel like shit but there is literally nothing I can do about it.” 

“I said I know! I’m not expecting you to change anything.” 

“Like you didn’t,” Louis mutters but Harry picks it up. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Louis looks like a pouting child. “You’ve done stuff too. Or left things undone.” 

“Yeah, I did,” Harry challenges, “also stuff that you had agreed to, may I remind you.” 

They stare at each other, neither willing to step back. The air is filled with electricity, almost, and as much as Harry absolutely hates confrontation, he feels a little bit more alive than he has in a long time. He’s full of adrenaline now, and it feels like it’s both from speaking his mind as it is from that they are finally talking about this, finally fixing this weird rut they’d fallen into. 

“So to recap,” Harry finally says. “I’m pissed off at you for things I initially agreed to but now don’t like, but things you can’t change, and not because you don’t want to.” 

“Seems so,” Louis grist through his teeth and then his eyes get a mischievous glint. “And I’m pissed off at you, for something you can’t affect but probably would want to, and that’s stuff I was fine with before.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry nods. “What a team.” 

“Team of idiots.” 

Harry puckers his lips and raises his eyebrows as an exaggerated way. “You can say that again.” 

“Team of idiots.”

“Shut up,” Harry grins. “Ok. I hate your stupid fucking stunts and some people around you are absolute cunts.” 

“I really don’t get some of the stuff you’re doing because of ‘strategy’,” Louis does air quotes with his fingers. “It’s making you seem very unlike you.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” 

“So basically we’re angry for each other and not at each other.”

“And totally lost the plot.” 

“Totally. Look, Louis. I love you and I want the best for you. I shouldn’t get lost in the shitty hype of things. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. Maybe we should just, I don’t know, have weekly meetings with each other and talk like business and update each other on what’s happening and what to expect.” 

“And talk shit about everyone else.”

“Especially that.”

Harry opens his arms, gesturing Louis to come cuddle.

“You’re my family, pal. I’ll always have your back.” 

“You’re my family too,” Louis smiles. “I’ll always be here for you, too.” 

“I don’t want you to think that, I’m like, not so fucking proud of everything you do.”

“I know you are.”

“And like, I know you are so proud of the things I do.” 

“I am, babe, so proud.” 

“I’m your biggest fan. And you’re mine, I know. And I think I probably forgot that for a little bit in the middle of everything.” 

Louis’s picking on the sleeve of Harry’s sweater. “I think… We both forgot, for a bit. And, like, stopped talking. I don’t want to ever, ever, feel that disconnection again.”

“Me neither,” Harry kisses the top of Louis’ head. “Come on, let’s go connect.” 

\---

Harry feels a bit like crying, maybe. They’d been wrapped around each other, inside each other, for what feels like hours now. It’s deep, it’s slow, it feels like reconnecting from head to toe and mind to heart. The release Harry finally feels leaves him shivering after. 

Later, laying with their foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, Louis is petting Harry’s hair, occasionally closing his eyes from the tickling pleasure of Harry’s finger tracing his features, his eyebrows, down his nose, his lips, up his jaw line and down again.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be so far from you anymore.”

Harry smiles softly. “Closer than close,” he brushes their noses together and closes his eyes, “you’re under my skin.” 

Harry moves his hand down to Louis’ chest, tracing the words tattooed there slowly. He doesn’t need to say them out loud. 

“More important than that,” Louis clears his throat, “is that we are what we are.” 

\---

They had gotten married on August 2nd, an exact year before their original set date for a wedding they’d been planning so happily, so in love, for a long time. They had chosen a lovely venue, by a lake – rustic but not too over the top romantic. It had felt very them as soon as they’d seen it. When everything had changed, Louis had suggested that they’d get married a year earlier, when they could still have all their loved ones together to share their most special day, just have a quiet do with family and then do a big party on the original date. Harry’s initial reaction had been shameful, he’d completely misunderstood everything. 

“I don’t want you to marry me as a show for other people. It’s not, that’s not what us getting married is about, Lou. It’s not for other people.”

“I know!” Louis snaps, rubbing his eyes. This discussion had been unnecessarily heated, completely awful, and he wanted to shake Harry to make him see. “I’m not marrying you for other people, I’m marrying you a year before so I can share our day, and my stupid fucking love for you, with my mum. I want her to see us get our happy ending.”

Harry looks at him for a long time, and Louis hates it, hates how he can see Harry’s heart break for him, and he feels torn between feeling so annoyed and so loved. 

“Ok,” Harry then whispers and comes to hug him tight, “of course we’ll do it. I want her there too. I’m so sorry,” he’s softly rubbing his hand up and down Louis’ spine, between his shoulder blades, and Louis isn’t sure what Harry is sorry about, probably more than just some one thing, but he takes it and lets himself be hugged.

It had been a wonderfully sunny Tuesday afternoon, such an inconvenient time but their families were there. Harry had taken Louis’ hand before they walked down to the minister, and he hadn’t let go until they were outside, birds chirping in the surrounding trees, doing rounds of hugging their parents and siblings, tissues passed around with delighted laughter and words of happiness. 

They’d decided to just have a roast dinner at home, with plenty of delicious home-made food and never-ending drinks, with everyone staying for the night and no obligations for the following day. Their scheming sisters had set a long table in the garden, Chinese lanterns and fairy lights hanging down everywhere. 

“This is,” Louis had taken a deep breath, voice a little hoarse, “so perfect.” His eyes had met Harry’s, and he’d pulled him into a tight embrace. “This is my favourite day, ever, and you’re my favourite person, ever,” he whispered to his husband.

Later in the evening, the sky had suddenly turned menacingly grey and opened with huge, heavy raindrops. The girls had been screaming, trying to cover their hairdos and delicate dresses, everyone going for whatever they needed to save quickly and get inside, people bumping into each other and getting drenched. 

But Harry and Louis had stayed behind, kissing in the rain, getting soaked together.


End file.
